I Choose Truth
by Ostrich on a Rampage
Summary: It's a tradition: anytime a boy manages to sell over 150 papes, the newsboys must gather together for a game night. And embarrassment is simply the status quo. Davey is unsure and Les is, of course, excited. Because, come on, what could possibly go wrong? Birthday one shot for IdaRose!


**Happy birthday, IdaRose! I hope you enjoy the story and the next year is super fabulous for you!**

* * *

August 10, 1899

It had been nearly a week since the success of the strike and everything had returned to normalcy. The newsboys were back to selling papes at their normal street corners, grins wide and lies even wider. Davey and Les Jacobs were still working amongst the newsies, but it wouldn't be long until their father was completely healed and they would no longer be needed to work. For now, though, they were still members of the newsies family.

Which meant that they were also subject to be forced into the newsies' traditions.

"That sounds stupid," Davey pointed out.

"Yeah, maybe if _you're_ stupid," Mush shot back.

Elmer smacked him in the head. "Nice comeback, stupid."

"Hey, shut it, both of ya," Race muttered, pushing Elmer and Mush apart. "Look, Davey, you'se a part of the newsies now, which means you'se gotta join in. It's the law. If one of the newsies manages to push 150 papes, we'se gotta do it. Jack got 152 yesterday. It's tradition."

"Tradition?" Davey scoffed.

"This week is going to be even better, though," Romeo jumped in excitedly. "We just won the strike, so now we'se all heroes."

"How will that affect—" Davey started, before shaking his head. "Look, guys, I can't guarantee Les and I will be there. We might have to go home. I'll ask my ma tonight, but I can't promise—"

"You've got to be there," Race interrupted. "Newsies forever, yeah?"

"Well, yeah," Davey agreed, watching Race carefully. He could tell that Race was working out some way to force Davey and Les to show up. It wasn't as if he didn't want to show up; Davey truly enjoyed spending time with the rambunctious newsboys. He just didn't exactly think that the night sounded fun. Mush had explained that every time a newsie sold 150 papes, the boys would gather together, sit in a circle, and play the most embarrassing games they could think of. Davey had known these boys long enough to know that he would be defenseless against the teasing and embarrassment that was sure to come from the night.

"Second to none, right?"

"Right," Davey agreed carefully.

Race grinned, "Which means we can't be second to your ma. Second to none, like you just said."

"Oh, come on, Race. You know that if I could come, I would. And maybe we can. I've just got to ask my parents."

"Ain't it nice that you'se got parents to ask," Elmer muttered, pushing past Davey to join a game of marbles that Finch was starting with Buttons.

"Race, you know—" Davey tried again, upset that all the newsies seemed to hold his parents against him, but Race cut him off.

"Yeah, I know, Davey. I get it. But, you'se part of the boys now, yeah? We'd really like to see the pair of ya there, y'know."

Davey smiled. "I know. And we'll try, okay?"

"Sounds great."

* * *

Even beyond the walls of Jacobi's, Davey could clearly hear Jack shouting, "Quiet down! Shut up! Mush, shut your mouth!" above the muted hubbub within the restaurant. Through the windows, Davey could make out a couple of the newsboys, squabbling over what looked to be a glass of water, before the second one—who Davey strongly suspected to be Boots—poured the liquid on the other's head. There was a loud cry of indignation before Jack started shouting again, "No, stop! Will you two stop it?"

Les bounced excitedly to Davey's left. "Are we gonna play some games?"

"Either that or get teased mercilessly," Davey commented dryly.

"I think it will be fun," Les asserted, puffing his chest out proudly. Davey had noticed just how easily Les had slipped in among the newsboys, becoming a brother in all but blood. He, too, felt as if he belonged, but Davey wasn't fool enough to think that he would ever be able to fit in as completely and wholly as the rest of the newsies could. There was a distinction between Davey and the others, a line that he didn't know if he would ever be able to cross, overcome. Maybe it would forever be the newsboys… and Davey.

"I'm sure it will be," Davey agreed, pulling the door open and allowing Les to bound inside and towards Buttons and Finch.

"Hey, look who finally showed up," Race teased, rolling his ever-present cigar between dexterous fingers. "The ma say it was fine?"

"Yes, she did," Davey replied, searching the room for—

A hand gripped Davey's shoulder, spinning him around. "Race said you weren't coming," a familiar voice remarked, eyebrow quirking.

"Race was wrong," Davey shot back, before Jack pulled him into a hug. Jack was always prone to physical confirmations of affection and Davey was still growing accustomed to the constant touching. Not that Davey would ever complain; sometimes, he just needed a physical reminder that he was cared for, that there was someone out there who still wanted him around. After the strike, Jack had been more quick to sling his arm around the boys, pull them close. Davey suspected that it was the dregs of guilt that had Jack constantly ensuring that his boys were healthy, were safe.

It had been a week, now, since the strike had ended, and it looked like there would be no end in sight for Jack's physical displays; Jack hadn't let up in even the slightest sense. Davey understood it, to an extent. He appreciated that Jack cared about everyone, but they had reached the point that nearly everyone's bruises had faded into nonexistence. In fact, just looking at the newsies around him, Davey would have never have thought them the boys that had been beaten so heavily, so viciously, at the start of the strike.

"Heya, Dave! I didn't think you was coming!"

Davey turned, his stomach sinking uncomfortably. Crutchie grinned up at the older boy, and Davey smiled back, though he was sure the motion was strained. Crutchie's face shown, lurid with bruises that hadn't faded yet. Yellow smudged with dusky brown and a throbbing purple, colors unnatural against his flushed skin. Shadows darkened the younger boy's jawline. Even though it had been a week, Crutchie's bruises remained, further proof that Crutchie had been hurt, _beat_ , while he was trapped within the Refuge. The other boys had remained unscathed after the initial fight, but Crutchie… Davey's stomach churned and beside him, Davey noticed that Jack seemed to bristle with protective energy at the sight of Crutchie's face. Crutchie must have recognized the tension and anxiously swiped at his jaw, wincing when his forefinger brushed against the tender skin. "Anyways, it's good to see ya," Crutchie muttered, backing up a bit.

"It's great to see you, too," Davey said, quickly clapping his hand on Crutchie's shoulder before the younger boy could completely back away. He ignored the way that Crutchie flinched at the sudden touch, his conscience twinging. "How's it been going?"

Crutchie smiled, though the way the bruises shifted and stretched made Davey feel nauseous. "Pretty great. It's good to be back out on the streets, selling."

"Yeah," Davey agreed. "I didn't think I would miss selling papers with you guys until we weren't, you know?"

"Sounds like you'se really becoming a newsie, now," Jack commented.

"Jack!" Albert shouted from across the room, catching the newsboys' leader's attention. He gestured wildly to Specs, who was pressing his hand against his forehead, grimacing. A thin trickle of blood stained his head. "He's hurt!"

"What now?" Jack shouted back, heading towards the two newsboys.

Davey laughed, turning back to Crutchie. "That's barely a scratch. I've seen way worse before."

Crutchie stiffened, before laughing awkwardly. "Heh," he tried, though the sound was so clearly forced. "Yeah, way worse."

"No, Crutch, I didn't mean—" Davey tried, mortified.

"I once saw a kid who broke his arm. The bone was, it was sticking out of his skin," Crutchie continued, ignoring Davey. "Fell from a tree," Crutchie clarified when he noticed Davey's look of horror. "Not… there…"

"I'm sorry."

Crutchie waved the concern away. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine," he said, but the way he said it, his voice strained, hoarse. The way his lips turned down, before stretching into a false grin. The way his eyes sparked even brighter, shinier, contrasting with the dull bruises that swathed his face. Davey didn't believe him for a second.

"Okay," Davey agreed softly. What else could he do? Crutchie had a pounding pride that wouldn't allow him to admit weakness and he wore it like a shield. And maybe it was a shield. Davey could all too clearly picture Crutchie curled up in the fetal position, each breath sparking pain, staring despondently at his half-curled fingers, but refusing to allow the hopelessness of the situation to seep through his smudged skin. The worst part, there was truth in that image. Davey had no idea what Crutchie had experienced in the Refuge, but if his still-bruised face was anything to go by, there had been countless nights filled with pain.

"I think they're gonna start the games," Crutchie said awkwardly, jerking his thumb behind him to where Race was surrounded by a couple of the newsboys. He shuffled, staring down at his feet, before looking back up. "It's your first time; you wouldn't want to miss the games."

Davey nodded, unsure how to alleviate the tension between the him and Crutchie. He followed Crutchie over to Race, noting that Les was already seated between Romeo and Mush, chatting about the girl he had met the day earlier that, as he claimed, was "lovestruck like a polecat." To which, Romeo and Mush began teasing him about a) being in love and b) using the comparison of a polecat.

Jack came over with a freshly-bandaged Specs, snagging the seat between Davey and Crutchie. "Stupid kid ran into the door frame," Jack remarked, smirking at Specs.

"My eyes were closed," Specs explained, sitting down between Les and Romeo. "If I hadn't had my eyes closed, I woulda been fine."

Jojo snorted. "We already know that you'se blind. You didn't have to prove it by splittin' your head open," he pointed out.

"I'm not blind," Specs shot back, before crying out in indignation as Mush swiped his glasses.

"Now you are!"

"Okay, okay, calm down," Jack interrupted, taking the glasses from Mush and handing them back to Specs. "If we're going to play a game or two together, we should probably get started before Jacobi kicks us all to the street. What do you guys want to play?"

The newsboys immediately began shouting and clamoring for attention, trying to choose how the night would be enjoyed. Crutchie's voice rose above the rest. "Jack sold the papes, shouldn't he get to choose?"

Race grumbled, "Well, that does make sense, but Jack doesn't choose any fun games."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Okay, Race, what would you choose?"

Grinning wickedly, Race suggested, "Truth or Dare."

The suggestion immediately caused an uproar. Many of the newsies were all for it, shoving each other, punching shoulders, and shouting that it was the best idea yet. Davey found himself siding with Elmer, who loudly proclaimed that it was a stupid idea. Jack held his hands up. "Shut up! The whole lot of ya!" Once everyone had fallen mostly quiet, he continued, "Okay, beyond Truth or Dare, are there any other good suggestions?"

"Bingo!" Elmer suggested and was immediately swatted at by a bunch of newsboy hats. "Come on," he complained, "it can be fun."

"Yeah, maybe if you're sixty," Buttons shot back. "I think we should play Truth or Dare. Most everyone wants to, except grandpa over here."

Elmer tried to protest, but was drowned out by the rest of the newsboys agreeing with Buttons. "Fine, fine," Jack relented. "Truth or Dare. Just a couple rounds and then we can move on, okay?" he added, when Elmer groaned.

"We're all just gonna look like a bunch of idiots," Elmer pointed out.

"Yeah, maybe, but that's the fun of it," Jojo countered. "If everyone's an idiot, then no one is."

"No, I'm pretty sure we're all still gonna be idiots."

"I'm great at Truth or Dare!" Les excitedly proclaimed.

Davey rolled his eyes. "Les," he started, but was cut off by Race.

"I'll start!" His eyes traveled around the circle, before settling on Davey, just as Davey expected they would. "So, Davey," he drawled, the tone lazy with a hint of sharpness and warning beneath, "Truth? Or Dare?"

"Neither?" Davey suggested. The circle of newsboys groaned and Jack elbowed him, insisting that he had to. "No, I'm with Elmer on this. I think it will just be stupid."

"Truth or Dare?" Race challenged once more.

"Fine. Truth," Davey said, figuring that would be the safest route to take.

The newsboys groaned once more, but Race waved them into silence. "Truth, eh? Seems a little… safe."

"Are you going to ask me a question or should we just move on to someone who actually wants to play?"

"Okay, okay, no need to get snippy," Race shot back. "Let me just think of something good…" He paused, his face screwing up in concentration. Just as the surrounding newsboys were growing restless, he grinned. "I got it. Now, you gotta tell the truth, 'kay, Davey?"

"I know the rules."

"Good. In that case, if you had to trade Les for one of the newsboys to be your brother, who'd it be?"

Davey quickly sputtered, "That isn't fair."

Before Race could assert that it was, too, fair, Les spoke up. "Does that mean I get to live with the rest of the newsboys? That sounds much more fun than boring ol' Dave."

"In that case, I will trade you off," Davey shot back, narrowing his eyes at Les, who grinned cheekily at him. "I'll take Jack."

"Big surprise," Mush muttered.

"Oh, there's a caveat," Race quickly jumped in. "You can't take the leader of the newsboys."

"That isn't fair," Davey replied. "You can't change the rules after I give my answer."

"Yeah," Jack chimed in, "What if I want to leave you loafers behind and join Davey?"

Romeo laughed. "Race is just bitter that Davey didn't choose him."

The boys latched onto that comment and immediately began giving Race a hard time, teasing him about wanting parents and fancy clothes. Fed up, Race shoved Mush away from him and growled, "It's someone else's turn"

"We'll go around in a circle," Buttons suggested. "Which means it's Specs' turn."

"Um, okay," Specs said. "And we can just ask whoever?"

Race shrugged bitterly. "Yeah, but be careful. Everyone will jump at you if you say the wrong thing."

"Okay, um, how about Romeo. Truth or Dare?"

Romeo puffed his chest out proudly. "Dare," he quickly answered. The newsboys started "oooh"ing and jostling each other in anticipation.

"Hm, okay… I dare you to… smell Boots' feet. For a full minute, just keep sniffing them," Specs challenged. There was a reason Boots had earned his nickname; the small copper-haired boy had large feet that could stink up a room in the span of seconds. The boys had finally convinced him that he was supposed to wear some form of shoes at all times, which provided his namesake.

Romeo's face twisted with discomfort. "Um, can I choose Truth?" he asked, as all the boys began hooting.

"Nope," Race shot back triumphantly, no longer bitter about the teasing he had faced only seconds earlier. "You chose Dare, you gotta do it now."

"My feet don't smell that bad," Boots was quick to interject.

"Your feet could bring a dead cat back to life!" Crutchie shouted, laughing.

Romeo finally stepped forward, approaching Boots. "A full minute?" he asked, pleadingly.

"A full minute," Specs confirmed.

He slowly lowered his face, closer to Boots shoes, before jerking back up. "What if I die?" he asked suddenly.

"You won't," Davey reassured him. "No one has ever died from a smelly foot."

"If you do, I get your bunk!" Elmer quickly claimed.

"Oh, can I have his cap?" Jojo asked.

"And I want his—"

Romeo cut them off angrily. "None of you get nothing. Even if I died, I wouldn't give you nothing, you bunch of jerks." With a grimace, Romeo pulled Boots' right shoe off and placed his nose relatively close to the begrimed sock.

"Gotta be closer," Mush said. "Your nose has to be touching the sock."

"That was not part of the dare!" Romeo exclaimed, refusing to move his nose any closer to the offending stench.

The newsboys glanced at Jack, who judiciously agreed that it was not part of the dare and Romeo could just keep his nose where it was. "But," he added, "you do have to keep sniffing until your minute is up."

Romeo's face twisted and he began smelling the sock before gagging suddenly. Squeezing his eyes shut, Romeo continued to sniff the sock. The boys were silent, watching as Romeo fought his gag reflex and suffered the bounds of the dare. Suddenly, Romeo turned to the side, retching loudly. "I can't," he whimpered. "I'll barf."

All eyes turned to Jack. "Fine. Boots, put your shoe back on. I'm starting to feel sick and I'm across the room from ya."

"That wasn't nice," Romeo muttered, punching Specs in the shoulder.

"You asked for a dare," Specs countered. He rubbed his shoulder petulantly. "I gave you a dare. You asked for a dare and I gave you a dare," he repeated petulantly. "That's how the damn game works."

"Next!" Race called out. Romeo frowned in his direction, but did not speak up.

"That's me!" Les exclaimed.

"Okay, kid, choose someone," Jack said.

"I choose Crutchie!"

Crutchie grinned. "Just warning ya, kid. I ain't a very fun choice. There's nothing exciting about me. And, I choose Truth, by the way."

"Ah, man," Albert groaned. "That's no fun. We already know everything about you, Crutch. You'se an open book."

"I get to choose. You can choose Dare when it's your turn," Crutchie shot back.

"Okay, before I ask my question, I need some background information," Les announced.

Jack laughed. "You don't get background information. You just ask Crutchie a question."

"Can it be a two-part-er question? About your leg?" Les begged.

"Sure, I don't care," Crutchie acquiesced.

Les nodded. "Okay, Crutchie, how did you hurt your leg?" Davey stiffened, but Crutchie laughed good naturedly.

Albert shouted, "Come on, kid. Everyone knows this!"

"It's not very exciting," Crutchie warned. "I got polio as a kid. Messed up my leg real bad." He shrugged. "See, nothing cool. Did you say you had a second question?"

"Yeah, and this one, no one knows the answer to," Les added, glaring at Albert.

Albert scoffed. "We'll see. _Everyone_ knows _everything_ about Crutchie."

"Just watch," Les challenged, his eyes narrowing. He turned back to Crutchie, triumphant. Grinning almost cockily, Les asked, "So, Crutchie," he drew the name out to create a sense of tension. Davey barely resisted rolling his eyes. He knew exactly how Les could get when he thought he'd be able to pull one over on someone. "If you could pick one thing, what would you say you miss most from before the pol-i-o." Les carefully sounded out the word to make sure he pronounced it correctly.

Davey noticed that Crutchie stiffened beside him. "L-like I said before, it ain't anything exciting. Just—just running, mostly… Um, yeah, just being able to run, I think."

The entire group of newsies seemed to notice the uncomfortable aura that extended around Crutchie and the room fell silent beyond the soft shifting of boys in their seats. Les glanced around the room, seemingly oblivious to everyone's discomfort. "See," he proclaimed, "I bet none of you knew that specifically."

Crutchie tried to laugh, but the sound caught in his throat and he coughed instead. His ears shone bright pink and Davey observed that the blush that was sure to be flaming across Crutchie's cheeks was hidden behind the dark, smudging bruises. The bruises appeared more dark, more spreading in this fake light, a significant contrast from the crooked grin Crutchie had pasted on his face.

Jack tried to put his arm around Crutchie, but the boy flinched away from the contact, before standing up. "Um, I… I gotta go…" Crutchie hesitated, as if he were trying to come up with a stronger excuse, before just turning and limping stiffly out of the building.

Glowering at Les, Jack commanded, "Next."

For a moment, no one moved, until Mush muttered, "I think that would be me. Uh, Specs, Truth or Dare?" However, there was a lack of enthusiasm in his voice and Specs sort of shrugged.

"Maybe we should play something else?" he suggested softly.

Jack spat, "You wanted to play Truth or Dare, we'se gonna play Truth or Dare. Go ahead, act like the lot of idiots you are." His eyes narrowed as he turned to glance at the door Crutchie had left through, before growling and shoving out of his chair. The wooden chair clattered to the ground, the sound abrasive in the uncomfortable silence. Jack said nothing, slamming the door behind him as he left the building.

Race was the first to speak up. "Nice going, Les," he muttered, rolling his cigar between his fingers.

"What did I do?" Les asked. "I just asked a question about his leg."

"Don't you get it?" Race demanded.

"No!" Les exclaimed, his face creased with confusion.

Race laughed harshly. "He doesn't get it," he muttered, the words blunt. "Guys, he doesn't get it." Race laughed once more, before standing up. "Great game, guys, but I think I'se gonna head out." With his eyes sparking dangerously, Race shoved his chair into its place by the table, before leaving Jacobi's.

A couple of the newsboys glanced between Race and Davey, before taking their leave as well. "It's usually more fun than this," Elmer muttered quietly to Davey and Mush nodded. "Maybe next time?"

Davey nodded softly. After the newsies had trickled out of the room, Davey turned to his younger brother, sighing heavily. "Les, you can't just—"

"What did I do?" Les asked quickly. "I don't get it. What did I do? I just asked a question."

"You can't ask questions like that," Davey whispered. "It hurt Crutchie."

"Why? He said it wasn't exciting. He said he didn't care. He _said_ I could ask about his leg."

"Did you ever think that maybe Crutchie misses being able to run?"

"Well, yeah," Les muttered. "That was the question."

Davey resisted rolling his eyes. This wasn't working. "Do you remember Grandpa Frank?" Davey tried, switching tactics.

Les nodded, warily. "Yeah, of course."

"And do you miss him?"

Once again, Les nodded.

"How much do you miss him?"

Les shrugged. "I don't know, a lot, sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Well, yeah. Sometimes I seem to forget about him because I'm too focused on playing or selling or whatever. And then, some days, all I can think about is how he used to hug me and how he smelled like cinnamon and cigars." Les scuffed his foot against the floor. "I miss him." He glanced up at Davey, his eyes shining. "But, that won't change anything. He can't come back."

"I know," Davey whispered. "And I think it's the same with Crutchie. Most of the time, he doesn't really think about what he was like before the polio. He's too busy, like you were saying. And then, other times, he'll think about what he lost when he had to start using a crutch. How do you feel when you think about Grandpa Frank?"

Les' face twisted. "I'm sad. I just want him back." He paused and Davey recognized the understanding flitting across his brother's face. "So, now Crutchie's sad because he can't have his leg back, huh."

"I think so," Davey admitted.

Les was quiet for a moment, before asking. "Do you think he'll forgive me if I say I'm sorry? I didn't mean— I didn't realize…"

Davey pulled Les into a hug. "I'm sure he will."

"Can I go apologize now?"

"No, I don't think so. Not yet. Give him some time. Tomorrow, when you see him, then you can apologize."

"I didn't mean to."

"I know. And Crutchie knows, too. Jack will talk to him and he'll be okay. Everyone will be okay."

Les cracked a smile. "Guess I'm not as great at Truth or Dare as I thought I was."

Davey ruffled his younger brother's hair. "That's okay. It's a dumb game anyway."

* * *

 **Okay, so that line back up there,** **"Before Race could assert that it was, too, fair, Les spoke up", I was having trouble punctuating it. I mean, I had heard plenty of people argue "that's not fair; it is, too, fair" but I had never read it anywhere so I didn't know how to write it. So, I asked three of my English professors and each one gave me a different answer. I chose to off-set "too" with commas, but if you guys know that there is an actual way to punctuate it, I'd love to know. Beyond that, I may just not have my characters argue like that again...**

 **Anyway, reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome!**

 **Also, as a heads-up, I am now closing March for birthday one-shots. April on is still good, if you want to leave a review or PM me with your prompt, username, and birthday!**


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